


Why Doesn't Your Mouth Work

by dharmaavocado



Series: Title of Our Sex Tape [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7907107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmaavocado/pseuds/dharmaavocado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of timestamps, ficlets, and missing scenes for Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for tora42 who requested “anakin’s POV of their courtship is hilarious but it would be cool to see how it happened from their point of view? like their first date or smth.”
> 
> Title again taken from Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

When his phone rang just before five in the morning, blaring an old boy band song from the ’90s courtesy of Fives, Rex figured he had managed maybe three hours of sleep. After their successful stakeout followed by an even more successful bust, he sent Ahsoka home while he filed the preliminary arrest report. Ahsoka argued for a good five minutes, more out of habit than any real objection, until Cody had turned the disappointed dad look on her and she slunk off with a suitable but probably fake chastened look. She had taken the lead on the case, which meant she got stuck with the overtime and the long shifts and only left the precinct long enough to sleep and shower. Rex was more than willing to pick up the slack for the day if Ahsoka got to go home to her girl.

He wasn’t due in until the afternoon, and Cody promised not to call him unless there was a murder or, more likely, Anakin’s mouth got him into trouble. Rex was never going to let the kid live down the great art installation debacle of 2009. He even got the decorative collage Fives made to commemorate the entire mess professionally framed.

“Waititi,” he answered, swearing under his breath as he fumbled the light on and reached for his pants.

The pause that followed lasted long enough for Rex to pull on day old jeans. He began the search for a clean shirt when he finally heard, “My apologies for calling so early. I thought perhaps it was—I was mistaken in any case.”

“Good morning, Obi-Wan,” he said, because there was only one person who sounded like an eighty year old professor when they were embarrassed, and he was self-aware enough to admit it really did something for him. “Everything okay? The kid in trouble again?”

“The kid? Oh, Anakin. No, he’s fine, although the day is still young. He slept at Padme’s tonight.”

There came the persistent beeping of an oven timer. Obi-Wan was a stress backer, Anakin explained once as he left yet another loaf of banana bread in the break room, which would last as long as it took Sinube and Nu to pick up the scent. Apparently, you could judge how badly Obi-Wan was coping with a situation by the pastries he made. Rex wasn’t sure what it meant that Obi-Wan graduated from banana bread to scones. He was going to have to ask Anakin for a chart.

So Obi-Wan was awake and baking at four in the morning, which meant a bad night and no sleep. With Anakin at Padme’s, that left Obi-Wan alone with nothing but his own thoughts, and Rex didn’t need Cody telling him that Obi-Wan lost in his head was begging for trouble.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, very proper and awkward sounding, and Rex shouldn’t find that as endearing as he did, “I should let you get back to sleep. Again, my apologies for—”

“You have breakfast yet?” He fished a gray Henley from the laundry basket. He always meant to put the clean clothes away, but it seemed a waste of time and energy when they would just end back up in the hamper.

“No,” Obi-Wan answered slowly, like he had no idea where Rex was going with that.

Weirdo, he thought fondly, and said, “There’s a café down by the Nine-Nine. They make a good cop of coffee, and their pastries aren’t too terrible.”

They had nothing on Obi-Wan, but he learned not to be picky at—he glanced at the clock—Christ, ten after five in the morning.

“I know the place. Are they open this early?”

“Yes,” he said, which was close enough to the truth. By the time they got there, Charlie would be unlocking the doors and contemplating murdering anyone with the audacity to want coffee before dawn. “I can pick you up.”

“On your motorcycle?” Obi-Wan asked, amused. “Perhaps it would be better if I met you there.”

“You like my bike,” he said. He caught Obi-Wan eyeing it speculatively more than once, and he had plans on how to convince Obi-Wan to go for a ride.

“Mm, it is memorable, but I believe we should save you picking me up, as it were, for when Anakin is present to appreciate it.”

He took a moment to translate that to English, and grinned. “And here you’ve tricked everyone into thinking you’re the mature, responsible brother.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan said, all faux innocence, “but I do have to get my fun somewhere.”

“And the kid is an easy target,” said Rex.

“He was even worse as a teenager. It got to the point where all I had to do was smile for him to make that terrible face. You know the one.”

“The disgusted frog face,” said Rex. There was an unofficial contest to see who could get Anakin to make it the most. He and Ahsoka were tied for first, although the captain was a close second.

“That is a very apt description.” Obi-Wan cleared his voice and added, almost hesitant, “I can meet you in twenty minutes.”

“See you there,” said Rex, and shrugged on his leather jacket. It was the one without any suspicious tears or stains. He mainly wore it to family gatherings when he didn’t want to be pestered with questions by the swarm of younger cousins that trailed after him and Cody and Wolffe, who was officially their favorite. Tup absolutely nailed Wolffe’s scowl. It was adorable.

Traffic was nonexistent this early, and it only took him about ten minutes before he pulled up to the curb to find Obi-Wan already waiting, hands in the pockets of an honest to god tweed coat, rocking up onto his toes in the pre-dawn chill. Seeing how he caught Obi-Wan’s attention, Rex made a show of taking off the helmet and swinging himself off the bike. He definitely didn’t miss the way Obi-Wan stared at his shoulders before resolutely turning his gaze to Rex’s face.

“Morning,” Rex said.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan answered with a rueful curve to his mouth. His hair was neatly combed, although there were a few errant curls just over his ear. Rex ignored the urge to put his hands on Obi-Wan and thoroughly muss him.

Instead he politely held the door, smiling at the knowing look Obi-Wan gave him in passing.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Obi-Wan asked.

The place was empty this early, and it would be another half hour before even the most hung over and desperate of students would stumble in. Rex had spent more than his fair share of mornings holed up in the corner, working his way through a difficult case as Charlie kept the espresso coming.

As if summoned, she bustled from the back room carrying two gallons of milk in each hand, the quiet broken by her irritated swearing.

“Oh Jesus, what,” she said flatly when she saw him and Obi-Wan standing at the counter.

“Hey, sunshine,” Rex said.

She slung the milk into the fridge with a practiced movement before pointing at Rex in that odd way of hers, index and pinky fingers extended. “I will end you,” she said.

“Bad open?” he asked.

“You’d get me off if I was arrested for homicide, right?”

“Already have a plan in place.”

“This why you’re my favorite,” she said, gaze swinging to Obi-Wan. “Who’s this?”

“This is Obi-Wan,” Rex said. “He transferred in to the Nine-Nine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nastia,” Obi-Wan said, holding his hand over the counter.

Charlie took his hand with a bemused expression, eyebrows raised as she glanced at Rex before saying, “My name’s not Nastia.”

Obi-Wan glanced at her nametag. “Ah, you don’t like strangers knowing your name. I assume there’s a theme to your aliases.”

Charlie’s usual expression was one of surly disdain, but there was a hint of smile when she said, “This week I'm going with 1960’s Soviet Russian spy movies.”

“A good choice,” said Obi-Wan. “If I make a suggestion, try Zinadia.”

“That’s pretty good,” she said, and Rex knew that would be on the nametag tomorrow. “Rex, you doing your quad undertow?” He nodded. “And for you?”

Obi-Wan studied the menu. “What kinds of tea do you carry?”

“You brought me a tea drinker,” she said, accusing.

“Could be worse,” said Rex, watching as she started pulling his espresso shots. “He could order a frappacino.”

“Don’t even joke,” she said. She glanced back to Obi-Wan and said, “We got this new black tea in. It’s supposed to be good.”

“Supposed to be?”Obi-Wan said. “I take it you’re not a tea drinker.”

“It’s a vile drink and I'm disappointed in you as a person,” she answered, ripping open a packet and pouring the contents into Rex’s espresso. He was never entirely clear on what it was, but he trusted her judgment. “You have the look of someone who has strong opinions on it.”

“Do not get him started,” Rex said, taking the cup from her.

“I don’t have strong opinions,” Obi-Wan protested.

Rex snorted, and Charlie smiled and said, “Lucky for you that I have a grandmother who also did not have strong opinions on how to prepare it. Give me a minute.”

“She seems nice,” Obi-Wan said as Charlie disappeared into the back.

“She’s awful,” Rex said, not bothering to hide the fondness in his voice, “but she’s slightly less horrible once you get to know her.”

“Doesn’t she hate Anakin?”

“There is a good chance she might physically fight him one day.”

“What happened?”

“No idea. I left them alone for five minutes and when I came back she looked ready to cut him.”

Charlie returned with a delicate teacup in one hand and a plate containing two muffins in the other. “Don’t know how you take it,” she said, sliding both over the counter, “but I put out fresh carafes and there’s sugar and shit over there.”

Anyone who hung around Obi-Wan for more than two minutes learned he was a giant tea snob, so it wasn’t a surprise to find him lifting the cup and breathing in deeply before taking a small sip.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, “this is absolutely lovely.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she said. “I told you, I know how to make a good cup. You need anything else?” Obi-Wan just reached for his wallet when she added, “Good, because that’s all you’re getting. I have to finish fixing last night’s fuckups before we’re swarmed.”

“Thank you,” Rex said, dropping a twenty into the tip jar, watching as Obi-Wan added another ten.

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie said, heading towards the back, “I'm a fucking delight, I know.”

Rex settled into his regular corner table, waiting as Obi-Wan stopped at the condiment bar to add milk to his tea. The muffin was dry, but as Charlie told him, what did he expect when all their food was shipped frozen and thawed overnight?

Rex pushed the plate towards Obi-Wan when he sat, watching as Obi-Wan crumbed the corner of one muffin, making no move to actually eat it. He leaned back and waited.

Even as a patrolman, Anakin complained about how his brother was terrible at communicating his emotions. Given how the kid never shut up about his own feelings, Rex chalked it up to self preservation on the brother’s part, although Cody later confirmed that Obi-Wan could talk a lot without actually saying a damn thing about himself.

Given what he had observed of Obi-Wan’s interviewing technique, Rex wasn’t surprised when Obi-Wan lapsed into silence. After the accident, where Echo would go days without speaking to any of them, Rex got good at carefully not pushing, instead patiently waiting for Echo to open up on his terms. Obi-Wan, like Echo, was made of still, deep waters, and he would speak when he was ready.

So Rex savored his espresso. Charlie ran on some perpetually refilling source of rage, but she knew how to make a good cup, and he hated to rush through it, even if he desperately needed the caffeine.

It took about ten minutes during which Obi-Wan completely destroyed one muffin and mostly finished his tea before finally saying, “I'm impressed. Even Cody would have asked why I called so early by now.”

“Cody’s always been the impatient one in the family.”

“You’re both related to Fives.”

“Relatively impatient,” Rex amended, and was rewarded with one of Obi-Wan’s small, amused smiles. “I figured you had a bad night and needed some distraction. If you want to talk about it you will.”

Rex had observed Obi-Wan at work and the incredible focus he brought to a case, but it was nothing like being the center of that attention, and for the first time in years Rex had to force himself not to fidget like a wet behind the ears kid.

Anakin got like that sometimes. The kid was one of the smartest in the department, but his attention was scattered. But when Anakin quieted himself and really focused, well, it was impressive to say the least. And, Rex thought as he met Obi-Wan’s contemplative gaze, something he clearly picked up from his brother.

“Not that I'm rushing you,” he said as he finished off the last of the espresso shots, “but we do have work in a couple of hours. You find what you’re looking for yet or do I have time for a refill?”

Obi-Wan blushed a deep pink. It extended all the way down his neck, and Rex spent a pleasant moment wondering how far it went. He’d bet good money Obi-Wan was a full body flusher.

“My apologies,” Obi-Wan said. “Force of habit, I'm afraid.”

Cad Bane, as any good career criminal, was notoriously paranoid. And as Bane’s bagman, Obi-Wan spent a lot of time sussing a person out. He was half tempted to ask what Obi-Wan saw in him, but he’d hate to ruin a perfectly good coffee date.

“No offense taken,” he said instead. “You going to actually eat the muffin or just play with it?”

“It seems dry,” Obi-Wan said, but took a bite, immediately making a face. “If I may make a suggestion, perhaps next time we try somewhere that serves real breakfast.”

“Sure,” Rex agreed, not quite smothering a pleased grin, “your pick.”

“Anakin gave me a list of places to try. I'm sure one of them must offer something besides sugar.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Cody’s taken to hiding vitamins in his food, you know, like you do with dogs. And you do not want to hear his and Ahsoka’s plans to get him to the dentist.”

“They’ve run some past me. Plan Delta is promising. Padme’s agreed to help as well.”

Rex snorted, and Obi-Wan said, “He talked about you constantly, you know.”

“The kid?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Yes. For an entire year every conversation I had with him began with “Rex did the coolest thing today.’”

“Huh,” Rex said.

Anakin as a uniform was even worse than Anakin as a detective. He hadn’t yet learned to harness his excessive energy to help him work cases, instead bouncing from problem to problem, frustrated when he couldn’t immediately find a solution. It didn’t help that the kid was basically a magpie, and every five minutes he would find a shiny new mystery to obsess over, his brain constantly cranking away until he dropped from exhaustion.

Their sergeant at the Nine-Three wrote him off as a good if excitable patrolman, but Rex took note of the drive and the sharp flashes of insight the kid had. Anakin needed guidance, a lot f it, and after the second time he caught Anakin crashing one of his crime scenes Rex figured it was better to keep the kid where he could see him rather than let Anakin burn out and get himself suspended.

“He’s come a long way,” Rex said, amused at the way Obi-Wan swelled up with pride. “He’s a good cop, even if he has a lot of feelings.”

“He does,” Obi-Wan agreed. “At least twelve by my last count.”

“You really don’t need more than three.”

“Five at the most.” Obi-Wan propped one elbow on the table, chin balanced on the back of his hand, gaze sly. “How many feelings do you have?”

“Right now,” Rex said, leaning in and dropping his voice, “a couple.”

“That few?”

“I only bother with the important ones,” he said, and Obi-Wan laughed, expression soft and happy.

Rex knew he had to be staring, brain gone completely useless in the face of Obi-Wan’s flirting, but it was all he could do not to fist the front of Obi-Wan’s truly awful cardigan and pull him in for a filthy kiss.

Charlie proved herself his favorite when she called out, “Yo, Waititi, get your damn refills. I'm not your waitress.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I thought she was?”

“She’s a barista,” Rex answered. “There’s a difference.”

“It seems I keep putting my foot in my mouth today,” Obi-Wan said.

“As long as she doesn’t hear you say it you’re fine,” Rex said and went to get their drinks.

“What the hell?” Charlie said, snatching the empty cups from him. “You were doing good and then you just froze.”

“Have I told you it’s creepy that you watch us?”

She gestured to the still mostly empty café and meaningfully raised her eyebrows. “If I wasn’t watching who was going to save you?”

She had a point.

“Now,” she continued, practically falling over the handout plane to poke him in the chest, “I have gone through the trouble of actually making tea the correct way, which is a pain in my ass. You get in there and tap that.”

“One of these days,” Rex told her, “you’re going to actually like another person and it will be a very good for me.”

“Pfft. Love is weakness.” She poked him again. “Go get him.”

“That is the plan,” he said, and she grinned before having to turn her attention to the man who was loudly demanding a cappuccino. Rex didn’t have to glance back to know Charlie was decafing him.

“I do like this place,” Obi-Wan said, and Rex wondered how much he overheard. Judging by the sly curl to his mouth, probably most of it.

Well, it wasn’t like he was being particularly subtle.

“Yeah, it’s all right,” he said, and knocked his ankle into Obi-Wan’s.

When the first trickle of the morning rush began, they threw out the crumbled remains of the muffins and returned their cups to Charlie, who gave them a distracted wave between making three separate drinks. While there was another barista working the second espresso machine, it was Charlie who ran the show, slinging out drinks as quickly as they came in.

“She quite impressive,” Obi-Wan said.

“You should see how she deals with assholes.” It was only a matter of time before she actually fought one, but his money was on her. She was angry and fierce and played dirty.

It was looking to be a bright, clear day, and the warm breeze had Rex itching to take his bike out of the city and really open her up. Given that he and Obi-Wan were expected in that morning, he pulled his spare helmet from his saddlebag and held it out.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Obi-Wan said, but it was obvious he wanted to be convinced.

Rex obliged him and said, “We still have an hour. It’s a good day for a ride.”

When Obi-Wan hesitated, Rex swung himself onto the seat, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Proving that he was related to Anakin and could not let that pass, Obi-Wan took the helmet and settled in behind him. “A ride would be nice,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Rex said, and gunned the engine.

Obi-Wan’s arms tightened around his waist, and he said dryly, “I do hope you won’t force me to make the lazy joke that you’re compensating for something.”

“I would never,” said Rex. “And I don’t believe in false advertising.”

“Promises, promises,” Obi-Wan said, soft and sly, and Rex ignored the way the back of his neck flushed to pull out onto the street.

He took them the long way, weaving in and out of traffic until there was a rare open stretch where he opened the old girl up, Obi-Wan laughing bright and wild in his ear. When they finally arrived at the Nine-Nine, Obi-Wan was windswept and disheveled and Rex did his best to keep the smug look off his face.

In the elevator, Obi-Wan said, “I did have a bad night.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Obi-Wan turned thoughtful, and Rex waited him out.

“Not now,” Obi-Wan finally said, “but perhaps later.”

“I’ll be here,” Rex said.

“Yes, I do believe you will,” Obi-Wan said, and smiled as the doors opened, resting one hand briefly on Rex’s arm before crossing the room towards his desk.

Rex barely took two steps inside before Fives, like the asshole he was, said, “Are you finally claiming those dibs?”

“Fuck off,” Rex said after making sure Obi-Wan didn’t overhear. “We just went out for coffee.”

“You went for coffee on a day you could sleep in,” said Fives, looking almost gleeful as he started tapping quickly on his phone. “Is our little Rex all grown up and in love?”

“I find this on Twitter,” Rex said, “and the entire precinct learns your real name.”

“You wouldn’t,” Fives said.

Rex raised one eyebrow, staring Fives down until he muttered, sulky, “You’re never going to get laid with that attitude.”

Cody shooed Fives back to his desk and said, “Anakin is going to have an aneurysm.”

“That’s just a bonus,” Rex said, and proceeded to yawn until his jaw cracked.

Cody didn’t do anything so childish as to roll his eyes, but he wore the familiar expression that clearly conveyed that Rex was stupid and he was lucky Cody put up with him. Rex couldn’t argue either of those points.

“The cot is still set up in the back of the evidence lockup,” Cody said. “Go get some sleep before you fall over.” When Rex glanced over at Obi-Wan, Cody added, “If he asks I’ll tell him you had to meet with some CIs.”

“This is why you’re my favorite cousin,” Rex said.

“I’d better be,” Cody said. “I don’t see Wolffe doing this for you.”

“Wolffe would have already locked Obi-Wan in my apartment and told us we’re welcome.”

“We really need to make sure none of the kids go to him for dating advice,” said Cody.

That thought was too horrifying to even contemplate, so he looked to Obi-Wan, who was frowning at his computer. His hair was still mussed.

“God, your face is terrible,” Cody said, and shoved him towards the evidence lockup. “Go get some sleep before Fives sees you.”

“My face is amazing,” Rex retorted. He ignored Cody’s disbelieving look, instead focusing on how Obi-Wan glanced up and smiled as he passed.

Rex would never admit it, but even as he laid down to catch what sleep he could, his face kept being terrible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan fits back into the Nine-Nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the prompt "the relationship between Rex and Obi Wan is amazing I'd really love to see more of all of them and anything between Ani and Obi." I did my best for an ensemble piece.

The Nine-Nine hadn’t changed as much as Obi-Wan feared. The computers were still at least five years out of date, the coffee truly terrible, Sinube and Nu still played strip cribbage at their desks despite the threats and pleading, and the less said about the men’s room the better. If it weren’t for the new faces he could almost forget how long he’d been gone.

Still, he mused as Ahsoka and Anakin’s bickering picked up volume, time marched ever forward and they all had no choice but to follow along.

“I'm sorry,” Anakin said, “but the evidence points to her doing it.”

“It’s just too convenient and neat,” Ahsoka insisted. “I got a hunch.”

“You know how I love your lovely lady hunches, Snips—”

“I will punch you in the throat.”

“—but she has opportunity, motive, and no alibi.”

Ahsoka scowled, glancing around the bullpen. Cody was in a meeting with Windu, Fives was aggressively ignoring them in favor of taking a series of selfies, and Rex was out canvassing the neighborhood about a series of robberies. Which left him, Obi-Wan realized too late, as Ahsoka marched over and dropped a file on his keyboard.

“Before you begin,” he said, “I want it to be known that I'm Switzerland.” At Ahsoka’s confused face, he added, “I'm neutral in whatever argument you’re having.”

“I can’t believe you won’t take my side,” Anakin said. “We’re family.”

“Which means I know how often you’re wrong,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

“That sounds an awful lot like you’re taking a side right now.”

“I'm merely stating a face.” He opened the file. “What is this?”

“Insurance fraud,” Ahsoka answered. “Gallery owner stole half of her collection, valued at a couple million. You worked something similar to this, right? That trombonist, what, six years ago?”

“Bassoonist actually,” he said, surprised. “The man had massive debt. Staged a robbery and then proceeded to try to sell the bassoon to the highest bidder. How do you know about that?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, smiling as Anakin made frantic shushing noises, “Skyguy’s your biggest fan. My first month here I got lectured daily about your close rate and your ability to guilt someone into confessing. You’re sort of his hero. It’s adorable really.”

“I will kill you,” Anakin hissed.

“It is adorable,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Do you know he dressed as me for Halloween when he was eleven? I'm sure I still have the pictures somewhere.”

“I will pay you actual cash money for those,” Ahsoka said, grinning at Anakin, who shrugged.

“I'm actually proud of that. I put a lot of work into the costume. I looked amazing.”

Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the file. It certainly didn’t look good for the gallery owner. It was her code used to deactivate the security system and the storage locker where the stolen art was found was taken out in her name. And she did have massive credit card debt, which was quite the motivating factor. But Ahsoka had a point. It all seemed a bit easy.

“I think Ahsoka’s right,” Obi-Wan said. “It looks like she rented the storage locker in person. Check that against her movements for any inconsistencies.”

“I told you,” Ahsoka crowed, snatching the file back. “Obi-Wan agrees with me.”

“Still Switzerland,” he said.

“I'm not gonna lie,” Anakin said, “I’ve always wanted to get a lady off with you.”

“You know how that sounds, right?” Ahsoka said, turning her horrified look on him. “Please tell me he knows how that sounds.”

“To be perfectly honest, I'm almost certain he does it on purpose.

“Almost certain?” she asked.

Considering the gleeful smile Anakin was wearing, Obi-Wan said, “Eighty percent certain.”

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” said Anakin. “I just want to help Ahsoka free an innocent woman.”

“This is why Rex punishes you,” Ahsoka said, grabbing her jacket. “I want to re-interview the assistant. Hey, Kenobi, what’s Switzerland’s national alcoholic drink?”

“No idea,” Obi-Wan answered, “but I won’t say no to a whiskey.”

“It’s on me,” Ahsoka said, and then ignored Anakin’s protests as she bodily dragged him to the stairs.

Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his own open cases with a smile.

 

It was early enough that Obi-Wan arrived before Fives, who, despite his cavalier attitude to keeping the communal calendar updated and his disdain of the filing system used by the NYPD, was among the first in every day. Obi-Wan mostly remembered Fives as a teenager with regrettable hair and the Waititi cocky smirk that meant they were willing to fight anything and everything and had never learned to lose. It was gratifying that Fives, like Anakin, had found purpose. With that in mind, Obi-Wan dropped off a small container of breakfast muffins on Fives’ desk before continuing on to the break room.

Unlike during the day where he kept himself busy with work and trying to trick Anakin into eating vegetables, the nights were long and quiet and there was nothing to distract him from the noise in his head and the persistent fear he would never truly shake himself free of Bane. So he retreated to the kitchen and worked his way through recipes until his thoughts finally ran themselves into the ground.

It was Qui-Gon who taught him to bake when Obi-Wan couldn’t sleep, still convinced he would be sent back into the system. It was only after Qui-Gon’s death that he learned when applying to be a foster father Qui-Gon requested the most difficult kid they had. At thirteen Obi-Wan was an angry, mouthy punk that made teenage Anakin seem angelic.

But Qui-Gon had taken him into the kitchen, opening the cupboards and pulling out bowls and pans, patiently showing him how to mix dough and knead it, motions repetitive and soothing until his head had gone soft and calm. Together they made Russian black bread, rye, whole wheat, countless loafs of sourdough until his shoulders and arms ached and he could finally sleep.

But banana bread had been Qui-Gon’s favorite, and no matter how Obi-Wan burned it or took to tweaking the recipe in disastrous ways, Qui-Gon ate every loaf with every sign of enjoyment.

But given the amount of fruit in their fridge and Anakin’s refusal to eat it unless it was covered in sugar, he had spent the better part of the night making muffins. He had set aside a dozen for Padme, but that still left an embarrassing amount left over. One of the good things about cops was that they, like grad students, didn’t question where food came from as long as it was free.

He hadn’t even stepped into the break room when Nu said, “You’re late. We expected you ten minutes ago.”

She and Sinube were seated at a table, which they had covered with a blue gingham tablecloth. A wicker picnic basket, the kind that Obi-Wan was sure didn’t exist outside of movies, sat at their feet. Floral patterned porcelain plates were laid neatly out, cloth napkins folded on top, and exactly halfway between them was a teapot wrapped in what looked like a bright pink hand knitted tea cozy.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked. Sinube and Nu were rarely on time for their shifts, the exception being when they fell asleep at their desks and everyone, including the cleaning staff, knew better than to disturb them.

“Waiting for breakfast,” Nu said tartly. “Hand over the goods.”

Giving up, Obi-Wan pulled one of the containers and passed it over.

“I do hope you remembered about Sinube’s nut allergy,” Nu said.

“That one’s just blueberry and cranberry orange,” he said.

“How thoughtful,” Sinube said, and lifted the cover of the butter dish as Nu proceeded to carefully dole out the muffins. “Let me pour for you.”

He pulled out another teacup. Obi-Wan was only mildly surprised to see that Sinube remembered how he took it.

“I have to say,” Nu said, accepting the cup Sinube passed her, “I am quite pleased how the department has changed and grown over the years.”

“That is true,” Sinube agreed. “There used to be such a stigma attending counseling. They used to pass around crib sheets with the phrases to get you cleared for duty.”

Nu snorted. “Just bred more problems in the long run.”

“You’re not being subtle,” Obi-Wan said.

“We weren’t trying to be.” Sinube gently stirred a teaspoon of sugar into his tea. “You had a hard job to do, Obi-Wan, and you did it. Now you’re back home and it’s going to be just as hard coming back from what you did. There is no shame in getting the help you need. Nu and I did.”

“You went to counseling?”

“Back in the ’80s,” Nu said. “Officer involved shooting. It was ruled justified, but that didn’t change the fact we killed someone. We all have things we carry, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lighten the load or that you must do it alone.”

It was easy to forget how long Nu and Sinube had been on the force and the commendations they earned. The NYPD had not always pretended to be welcoming to anyone not white or a man, but Nu and Sinube, who were neither, worked case after case, year after year, and sometimes in quiet moments he could see all that history writ in the line of their shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Sinube reached into the wicker basket and pulled out a cribbage board. “Care to join us in a game?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, and fled.

The tea, though, was excellent.

 

For all that he was learning the new rhythms of the Nine-Nine, some things, Obi-Wan thought, would forever remain a mystery, such as Rex casually holding Anakin at bay with one arm as Anakin futilely scrabbled against the hold.

“Do I want to know?” he asked Cody.

Cody barely glanced up from his computer. “They do this sometimes. I find it’s best just to let them get it out of their systems.”

“Come on, give it,” Anakin said, feinting to the right before lunging forward. Rex neatly stepped out of the way, smirking as Anakin sprawled against a desk.

“Five bucks said Anakin goes for the spider leap,” Ahsoka said, leaning against Cody’s desk.

“Remember when he tried to tackle Rex?” Fives said, phone out to, Obi-Wan assumed, live tweet everything.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It was like a cartoon,” Ahsoka answered. “No matter how hard Anakin shoved Rex just didn’t move. It was sad. Oh, here it comes.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Anakin said, climbing on the desk. “But you leave me no choice.”

“We both know how this is gonna end,” Rex said.

Anakin leapt. Obi-Wan winced, waiting for the inevitable moment when both Anakin and Rex collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

“Wait for it,” Ahsoka said.

Rex took a step backward, knees bending under Anakin’s weight before he straightened. A slight grimace was the only indication Anakin had managed to mildly inconvenience him.

“How are you so strong?” Anakin demanded, scrambling to keep hold of Rex’s shoulder, one leg coming up to hook over Rex’s arm.

Obi-Wan knew from experience that Anakin weighed quite a lot for someone who had the same circumference as a pipe cleaner, but Rex wasn’t even breathing heavily from Anakin hanging off him.

“Just go down,” Anakin said, trying to wrap an arm around Rex’s throat.

Rex sighed and casually reached up and flipped Anakin over his shoulder. The Henley he was wearing, Obi-Wan noticed, did nothing to hide the flex of his biceps. As Anakin let out an undignified yelp, Obi-Wan found himself staring at the span of Rex’ shoulders. He really was quite strong.

“Uncle, uncle,” Anakin cried as Rex dangled him in the air. “Sarge! A little help?”

“You brought this on yourself,” Cody said.

“And here’s my favorite part,” said Fives.

Rex unceremoniously dumped Anakin onto the floor, smirking as Anakin groaned, “I hate you so much. I think you bruised my spleen.”

“Uh-huh,” Rex said, turning towards his desk. Obi-Wan could actually see his back muscles, good lord. “You knew how this was gonna end.”

Anakin dramatically raised his arm into the air. “I'm going to get you next time.”

“You’re adorable,” Rex said.

“Does, uh, does that happen a lot?” Obi-Wan asked, forcing himself to look away from Rex.

“Anakin gets it into his head he can take Rex,” Ahsoka said. “He’s dumb and doesn’t learn, hence this.”

“Oh,” he said.

Cody slowly turned towards him, gaze knowing, and Obi-Wan plastered on his best mild expression, which, he remembered, never fooled Cody.

“Everyone back to work,” Cody said without looking away from him. “Skywalker, you’re fine.”

“I think I'm dying,” Anakin moaned.

“Then do it quietly,” Cody said. “Obi-Wan, if you have a minute.”

“I have a report on the Carmichael case to finish,” Obi-Wan said, only to have Cody drag him toward the break room.

“Huh,” Fives said thoughtfully behind him, and Obi-Wan privately thought maybe Anakin had a point about the Waititis being the worst.

“So Rex,” Cody said, shutting the door behind them.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan said, busying himself with the electric kettle.

“It makes sense,” Cody continued. Obi-Wan eyed the window, but it was firmly locked and he knew for a fact Cody would just chase him onto the fire escape. “He is your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” he said.

It was impressive just how much mocking ridicule Cody could project without moving any facial muscles.

“Quinlan Vos,” Cody said.

Obi-Wan grimaced. “We never technically dated.”

That damn eyebrow lifted. “Satine.”

“Just because,” Obi-Wan said after a long moment, “I cannot immediately refute that doesn’t mean you have a point.”

“You’ve got a type,” Cody repeated, and then before Obi-Wan could protest, fondly thumped him on the back. “You can’t do better than Rex.”

“Are you trying to give your blessing?” he asked, suspicious.

“Rex is an adult who is more than capable of deciding who he wants to sleep with,” said Cody. “But I am saying I won’t judge you and your terrible tastes too badly.”

“You realize that’s your cousin you’re talking about.”

“You’re right. I'm judging you very harshly.”

“And to think,” Obi-Wan said, backing towards the door, “I actually thought I missed you.”

“Of course you missed me,” Cody said completely deadpan. “I am delightful.”

Obi-Wan made a rude gesture and hurried back to his desk before Cody’s restraint slipped and he laughed in his face.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, having picked himself up the floor.

“The entire Waititi family is the worst,” Obi-Wan said darkly.

“I’ve been saying that for years.” He took a seat in Obi-Wan’s spare chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “What did Cody say?”

“Blatant lies.” He shoved Anakin’s feet off.

Anakin’s eyebrows rose as he glanced over to where Cody, the utter bastard that he was, was smirking at them. “You two have the weirdest fights. Hey, you want to help me get revenge on Rex?”

Through sheer force of will, Obi-Wan kept his gaze from wandering over to where Rex was looking over Ahsoka’s shoulder at the file she was holding. He was really quite solidly built.

“I thought you had enough humiliation for the day,” he said.

“I will totally get him one day,” said Anakin, who always did like to ignore historic precedent. “Let me know if you decide to actually want to be the fun one for once, just for a change of pace.”

“Will that mean you’ll be the responsible one and pay for your half of the electric bill with actual money and not that jar of Canadian pennies I know you’re hoarding?”

“Oh, hey, sarge, you said you had work for me?” Anakin said loudly.

At Anakin’s rapid retreat, Rex glanced over, and against his better judgment Obi-Wan found himself smiling at the commiserating look they shared.

Cody’s amusement was palpable from across the room. He may have been gone for four years, Obi-Wan thought, but some things, such as Cody’s constant judging of his love life, were forever.

Still, it was good to be home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for nordstr0m's prompt: We hear about Wolffe, he's kinda the bogeyman off-screen compared to Rex's bogeyman onscreen presence. So what's his whole take on Rex's crush and his thoughts on meeting Obi-Wan? Also can we hear more about Rex's bid?
> 
> I didn't quite stick to that, but here is Wolffe making Rex's life difficult.

There were days when being a cop meant being on the street, tracking down witnesses, conducting interviews, and if Rex was very lucky, chasing down a suspect and tackling them where Obi-Wan could see. But then there were these days, spent behind a desk, filling out endless paperwork, everything neat and orderly and ironclad because convictions fell through on less.

“Are we done yet?” Ahsoka asked. She had kicked off her shoes an hour ago, feet on Rex’s lap as she read over their arrest report for the steroid bust last week.

“You never let me put my feet in your lap,” Anakin complained as he passed them on his way out. “And I’ve known you longer.”

“We’ve been over this,” Rex said. “I like her more than you.”

“And I do laundry more than once a month,” Ahsoka added as Anakin pouted.

“And her socks are cute.”

“I can’t even argue with that,” Anakin said, glancing down at Ahsoka’s watermelon socks.

She wiggled her toes. “Steela knit them.”

“You’re a lucky lady, Snips.”

“I know, but it’s nice that you’ve finally come around.”

“I’ve always liked Steela,” he protested.

As if they practiced, he and Ahsoka turned nearly identical looks on Anakin, who flinched backwards and said, “You two are spending way too much time together. You’re like those creepy twins from The Shining.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Ahsoka cooed. “Rex still tolerates you. It’s not your fault you’re not as fun as me.”

Anakin gave a theatrical huff like he didn’t care, but Rex could tell be the way the kid’s shoulders twitched that Ahsoka struck a nerve. Looked like it was time to take Anakin out to 79s, just the two of them, where a few shots in Anakin would fall asleep on his shoulder while complementing his biceps. Fives still had the video from last time.

“You got plans?” Ahsoka asked, and Rex noted that Anakin’s hair was neatly combed, his shirt buttoned and tucked in, and the kid even attempted a double Windsor knot on his tie.

“Dinner with Padmé and some of her friends,” he said, smoothing his shirt down. “Do I look okay?”

Anakin always did feel outclassed by Padmé, which at turns was endearing and hilarious, especially given how even Anakin knew he was going to be her trophy husband one day soon.

As if summoned, Obi-Wan wandered over, shaking back the cuffs on his cardigan to straighten Anakin’s tie. “You look fine,” he said. “And I don’t know why you’re worried. I’ve met Sabé. She’s going to buy the first round and then pull out the pictures of Padmé’s previous unfortunate hair styles.”

“They’re not unfortunate,” Anakin protested. “She’s beautiful.”

“Have you seen the wire cage one?” asked Ahsoka. “I don’t know what her hair did to get locked up like that, but it must have been bad.”

“Murder at the very least,” Obi-Wan agreed, mouth curving up at Anakin’s offended expression.

Ahsoka swung her legs off Rex’s lap and shoved her boots back on. “Hey, Rex, me and Steela are going to grab some dinner at the diner you like and disparage your terrible rugby team. You in?”

“Not tonight,” he answered, saving his work before shutting down his computer.

“You have plans?” Obi-Wan asked, a disappointed turn to his mouth.

“Drinks with Cody and Wolffe,” he said.

“It’s their monthly gossip session,” Ahsoka said, bag slung over her shoulder and impatiently waiting as Anakin smoothed wrinkles from his shirt.

“We don’t gossip,” Rex said, adding as Anakin snorted, “We exchange news on the family. We have a lot of cousins. We split up who keeps tabs on who.”

“Which is not at all like gossiping,” Obi-Wan said, neatly dodging the pen Rex threw at him.

“You doing anything?” Rex asked.

“I was thinking of getting a pizza,” Obi-Wan answered. “Nothing special.”

Last time Obi-Wan did nothing special, they ended up passing a carton of lo mein back and forth, knees knocking together as Obi-Wan drunkenly and earnestly explained the difference between types of flours.

“I think Wolffe has a thing later,” Rex said. “I can you meet you after.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your time with your family,” Obi-Wan said.

“You’re not intruding.” He slid on his leather jacket, noting the way Obi-Wan’s gaze lingered where his shirt rode up. “The only new development is the boyfriend Kix thinks he’s hiding from us.”

“You would think he would know better than to keep anything from three detectives.”

“Especially since he’s shit at lying.”

“Hey,” Ahsoka said loudly. “Cody already left. You should get a move on.” She tilted her head at Anakin, who was looking suspiciously between him and Obi-Wan, and added, “Come on, Skyguy. You don’t want to be late.”

“I look good, right?” Anakin asked, attention successfully diverted. “Like a boyfriend who’s financially stable and understands interest rates?”

“Absolutely not,” Ahsoka said as they stepped into the elevator, “but Padmé could do worse.”

“Thanks, Snips.”

“She can also do infinitely better.”

Thankfully the closing doors cut off Anakin’s offended squawking.

“He is getting better about balancing his budget,” Obi-Wan said, going to his desk and retrieving his jacket.

“Well, there’s no way he could get worse,” Rex said. “I once witnessed him buy toilet paper using pennies he scrounged from the break room.”

“As long as they were American pennies I’m going to count that as progress.” He cleared his throat, and Rex watched with amusement as Obi-Wan folded his hands behind his back like he was about to deliver a briefing on an open investigation. “I thought I might walk with you.”

“If you want,” Rex said, and managed not to smile as Obi-Wan’s shoulders relaxed.

79’s had a few good points going for it, like the staff long since becoming inured to Wolffe’s one-eyed glare, the Nine-Nine’s antics, and the fact it was a few blocks from the precinct, which meant it felt a bit like he was in high school with Obi-Wan walking him home.

“The New Zealand rugby team?” Obi-Wan finally asked.

“Misplaced national pride,” Rex answered. “Our grandfather used to take us to games when we were younger.”

Jango had more kids than he knew what to do with most days, but Rex had fond memories of him patiently explaining the rules of the game. Rex wasn’t a big a fan as Cody or Boost were, but he followed the All Blacks and, when he visited, performed the haka with the rest of the family.

“I didn’t think rugby would be Ahsoka’s sport,” Obi-Wan said.

“Are you kidding? She’s never happier than when she’s in a scrum. I’ve seen her take out guys twice her size.”

“She does enjoy making grown men cry,” Obi-Wan agreed. They came to stop outside 79s, and Rex felt something unbearably fond unfurl in his chest as Obi-Wan visibly fought the urge to fold his hands behind him, instead choosing to slide them into his pockets like a normal person. “Well, here we are.”

“Yeah,” Rex agreed, relieved when a quick glance inside didn’t reveal Cody or Wolffe. “I’ll text you when we’re done if you still want to grab some food.”

“I do,” said Obi-Wan, smiling. “And I doubt Anakin will be back. We can make a night of it.”

“Sounds good,” Rex said, bumping his shoulder into Obi-Wan’s. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed, taking a step backwards, a flush riding high on his cheeks. “I'm looking forward it.”

Rex waited until Obi-Wan had hurried off before allowing himself to grin. For a man as skilled at undercover work as Obi-Wan was, he was very easily flustered. A better person would not have taken advantage of that, but Rex held very little illusions about how good he actually was.

Unfortunately, that meant he knew exactly what he did to deserve both Cody and Wolffe smirking at him from their usual table.

“You know,” Wolffe said as Rex resigned himself to the inevitable and took a seat; at least the assholes bought the first round, “I was sure Fives was exaggerating, but your face really is that goddamn embarrassing.”

“You’re lucky you don’t work with him,” said Cody, the utter bastard. “His mooning is very sad.”

“Now, Rex,” Wolffe continued, “I'm only saying this because I love and respect you, but you should really save yourself for marriage. Kenobi deserves a nice boy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Rex said. Unlike Fives’ tragic sexual and romantic history, Wolffe’s utter indifference to both meant that Rex had nothing to rub his face in. “Obi-Wan’s had a hard time of it lately.”

“Oh, I just bet—”

“Do not,” Rex said, pointing at him in warning, which did nothing but make his smirk grow. Wolffe had opted for the eye patch that day since he only broke out his prosthetic eye to welcome the newly graduated cadets to the One-Three, claiming the terrified screams really warmed his heart.

“We should play nice,” Cody said, straight faced and untrustworthy. “Rex is dealing with a lot of feelings.”

“I didn’t know feelings were involved,” Wolffe said as Rex, having finished his own beer, stole Cody’s.

“Dibs, too.”

Wolffe’s eyebrows rose. “Kenobi is the dibs from the tactical village? Well, damn, Rex, when’s the wedding?”

“You almost finished?” Rex asked.

“I honestly expected you to propose when you watched his run,” Wolffe continued. “You were spilling feelings everywhere. I also thought Cody would kill you if you tried anything.”

“I wouldn’t kill him,” said Cody, who was a brother to Obi-Wan. “It’s much more fun to watch Rex make an idiot of himself.”

“That’s not particularly difficult for him.”

“Remember his first year of college?” said Cody. “I never could figure out how you ended up locked outside your dorm in your—”

“I just want to remind you,” Rex said, “that I am currently Jango’s favorite and he will help dispose of your bodies.”

“You’re not his favorite,” said Cody. “That’s Wooley right now.”

Wolffe’s gaze went contemplative. “You like him?”

“I do,” said Rex, because he never could hide anything from them. They were the oldest among the grandkids, and Cody and Wolffe always had his back.

Wolffe looked to Cody, who said, “Obi-Wan’s a good man.”

“Good for you, Rex,” said Wolffe, which meant he approved in his own weird way. “So is Kix still pretending he isn’t dating that kid with the terrible tattoo?”

And with that Rex was off the hook for the moment. With a family their size, it was hard to keep track of where anyone was at any given moment. Most split their time between the States and New Zealand, although it was possible to find a Waititi practically everywhere in Polynesia. Say what you wanted about Jango, and there was plenty to say, no one could accuse that man of doing anything by halves. Rex would not be surprised if after a generation or two there was a noticeable shift in the gene pool in a few pockets of the Pacific.

When their talk turned from their family to the job, Rex fished his phone out and texted Obi-Wan _finishing up here be over in 15 NO WEIRD SHIT ON THE PIZZA_.

 _I'm not the one who gets it with pineapple_ , Obi-Wan sent back, pissy even over text.

Rex snorted. He’d cop to the pineapple, but Obi-Wan liked to order avocado and spinach and, one horrifying time, broccoli. To be fair, he was almost certain that was just to screw with Anakin.

“Jesus,” Wolffe muttered.

“Now do you see my problem?” Cody said. “I have to work with both of them.”

“This is why no one likes either one of you,” said Rex, sliding his phone away and finishing off the last of his beer.

“Tell Kenobi we said hello,” Wolffe said.

“You know I won’t,” said Rex. He dropped a few bills to cover his part of the tab.

“Did you know that Rex took Obi-Wan for a ride on his bike?” Cody said.

“And here I thought you were going to trick him into marriage before letting him know you’re compensating for something,” said Wolffe.

“Go fuck yourself,” Rex said, and then ignored their terrible shouted advice as he made his escape, opting to walk to Obi-Wan’s place.

Obi-Wan opened the door and said, “Didn’t go well?”

“This might surprise you,” Rex said, “but my cousins are assholes.”

“I had picked up on some of Cody’s less desirable personality traits, yes,” Obi-Wan said dryly, and despite the fact it would be so easy to lean forward at press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Rex firmly reminded himself he was letting this play out.

“What kind of weird pizza did you get?” he asked instead. He could see the box on the kitchen counter.

“Avocado is not weird,” Obi-Wan protested. “You’re the one who refuses to try new things.”

“Vegetables have no place on pizza.”

“But fruit does?”

“Now who’s refusing to try new things?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, proving he and the kid were related. “Questionable personal tastes aside, I just got a regular pepperoni, given your ordeal today. I do hope you appreciate it.”

“I always appreciate you,” he said, and smiled at Obi-Wan’s pleased expression.

And despite Cody and Wolffe doing their best to ruin it, standing there in the kitchen with Obi-Wan and a pizza slowly growing cold in its box, Rex was having a pretty damn good day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s like you only married me for my electric blanket,” Rex said._
> 
> _“Don’t be absurd. I clearly married you for your body.”_
> 
> In which Obi-Wan catches a cold and deals with it as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by thedakt37 [comic](http://dakt37.tumblr.com/post/124704848934/i-re-watched-landing-at-point-rain-last-night)about Obi-Wan being terrible and the fact it is cold and flu season and I can feel my immune system failing.

Winter descended upon the city with that special blend of slush and bitter cold that left most New Yorkers homicidal but too frozen to actually commit any crime. The real threat was the new strain of influenza just waiting to cull the weak and unsuspecting from the herd. Cody’s yearly precautions included throwing bottles of orange juice and multivitamins at everyone’s heads and silently staring until they drank every drop. Rex would normally make fun of him but Cody had only caught the flu once, and that was more like a targeted strike against the Waititi genome as the entire family spent a week dying before their genes rallied.

Unfortunately for him and Ahsoka, someone was healthy enough to commit a series of break-ins to various walk-ups, which meant they got to spend several hours out in the damn cold.

“Who do you think is going to succumb first?” Ahsoka asked as she and Rex checked the side alley for points of entry. Between the scarf looped over her lower face and the wool hat pulled over her locs, both courtesy of Steela, only her eyes were visible. “Cody’s due.”

“He would never be so undisciplined,” Rex said. “The captain, maybe. I caught him sneezing.”

“Must be a glitch in his programming.” She tilted her head to the side, considering the row of basement windows. “My money’s still on Anakin.”

“The kid has too many viruses competing for one to actually get through the door. You got something?”

She crouched by the window at the far end. “It looks jimmied. Probably how our guy got in. It’d be a tight squeeze. Whoever it is would have to be tiny.”

“What are you thinking?” He held out a gloved hand to pull her back to her feet.

“We didn’t get any calls about any suspicious people hanging about, which means they might live in the area.”

“And?” Rex prompted.

“And given the size of a window it’s either a woman or an exceptionally narrow shouldered man.”

“We’ll question the tenants again. Maybe one of them will remember a woman casing the place. Nice work.”

“Thanks,” Ahsoka said, and the scarf couldn’t hide her pleased grin.

The sun was setting when they made it back to the Nine-Nine and Obi-Wan was heading out, looking tired as he brushed his knuckles over Rex’s shoulder.

“Do you have your scarf?” Rex asked, taking a seat at his desk. He had paperwork to finish, but it wouldn’t take more than an hour.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered, voice rough. A pause and then, “I just had it.”

Rex fished out a spare from his desk drawer and handed it over. “I want that back later,” he said. It was a fifty/fifty chance Obi-Wan would still have it by the time he made it back to the apartment. Obi-Wan shed scarves at almost an impossible rate. Even Steela, who Rex once witnessed knit a hat in the span of a few hours, couldn’t keep up.

“I’ll see you at home,” Obi-Wan said, stifling what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle and made as dignified an exit as a man wearing a bright orange scarf could manage.

By the time Rex finished up and made it to their building, stopping by their second favorite Thai place, he was half frozen and cursing the cold. Having spent a good chunk of his childhood in New Zealand, it still felt strange to experience winter in January when he should be lounging on the beach and watching Obi-Wan burn an alarming shade of red.

“Next year,” he said, kicking the door closed behind him, “we’re taking a full month off and going to Wellington.”

“I'm not going to argue with that,” said Obi-Wan, voice somehow even rougher than earlier. “What is that smell?”

“Thai. I got the soup you like.”

“I'm not hungry, but thank you.”

Obi-Wan never turned down coconut soup. Hell, he once witnessed Obi-Wan fight Cody over the last bowl, and Obi-Wan was sneaky and underhanded.

After a brief detour to the kitchen to unload the bag on the counter, he found Obi-Wan cocooned in the electric blanket on the couch, mug clutched in his hands, squinting through the glasses he only wore when his eyes were too dry to handle contact lenses.

“It’s like you only married me for my electric blanket,” Rex said.

“Don’t be absurd. I clearly married you for your body.” He was shivering and looked extremely annoyed about it.

“You didn’t look this bad when you left work,” Rex said, but Obi-Wan was almost cat like in his ability to hide any illness. Anakin had given him a binder outlining in obsessive detail what to do in the event Obi-Wan was ill or injured, which was both oddly sweet and deeply worrying, an Anakin specialty.

“I just got a chill walking home,” Obi-Wan said. “I'm fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He tilted Obi-Wan’s head up and pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Yeah, you’re definitely warm. You’re calling out tomorrow.”

“I'm _fine,_ ” Obi-Wan insisted, words undercut by the ragged cough that shook his frame.

Rex rubbed his back, waiting for the fit to subside before saying, “So this is what fine sounds like?”

“I’ll sleep it off,” Obi-Wan said stubbornly as Rex plucked the mug from his hand. “I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“You sure do love ignoring reality when it suits you,” said Rex, heading back to make more of the, aptly named by Charlie, shitty bark tea that Obi-Wan loved.

As he waited for the water to boil, he shoved the Thai into the fridge and popped bread into the toaster. He dug out the honey and butter, humming the song his mother sang when he was overtired but refused to go to bed, which seemed appropriate given Obi-Wan’s bullheaded belief that if he simply refused to acknowledge reality it would bend to his wishes.

By the time he came back, Obi-Wan jerked upright, blinking rapidly and trying not to look like he hadn’t just been dozing off.

“Here,” Rex said, carefully passing over the plate and mug.

“Oh, thank you. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’ll get something later,” he said, knowing better than to tempt Obi-Wan’s stomach with any strong smells. “What are we watching?”

Obi-Wan frowned and turned back to the television, volume so low as to be nonexistent. “Something about space?”

“Sounds educational.” He smiled when Obi-Wan dug an elbow into his ribs. He lifted an arm, Obi-Wan leaning into his side. After a few minutes, Rex set the plate with the half eaten toast aside. Another five and he gently rescued the mug that was tilting precariously to the left. Obi-Wan sighed and turned his face into Rex’s neck.

“Time for bed, sicky,” Rex said after another ten minutes. “Get up.”

“I'm not sick,” Obi-Wan muttered, glare ruined by the way his eyes didn’t seem to want to fully open.

“Of course not,” he said, gently unwinding Obi-Wan from the blanket and steering him to the bedroom. Obi-Wan made an unhappy noise when Rex deposited him under the covers. “I'm going to get your one true love.”

“I would divorce you and marry that blanket if it were legal.”

“I know,” said Rex, sounding disgustingly fond even to himself. “Why do you think I asked for a prenup?”

Obi-Wan grunted and rolled over, and by the time Rex came back armed with the electric blanket, a glass of water, and a trashcan just in case Obi-Wan’s stomach took a turn for the worse, his loving husband was passed out and drooling on his pillow.

“The things I do for you,” Rex said, plugging in the blanket and firmly tucking it around Obi-Wan’s tightly curled form.

 

 

Through some minor miracle Obi-Wan slept through the night, and Rex quickly turned the alarm off before Obi-Wan could do more than groan and roll over. That more than anything told Rex Obi-Wan was well and truly sick.

“Rex?” Obi-Wan said when he had climbed out of bed. His voice was so hoarse that Rex’s throat ached in sympathy.

“Go back to sleep,” Rex said, brushing Obi-Wan’s mussed hair back. He was warm to the touch, cheeks flushed and eyes drifting close again.

That probably bought him enough time to dig out the cold medicine before Obi-Wan’s frighteningly accurate internal clock informed him he was oversleeping. With any luck, he would be out of it that Rex could get him to take more night time pills and knock him out again before Obi-Wan could argue he had never once been sick in his entire life and then tried to sneak out of the apartment. Anakin’s binder had been very clear on the point that Obi-Wan was wily and not to be trusted.

Of course, by the time he poured a glass of juice and found the thermometer from inside a half-empty bag of cotton balls, Obi-Wan was not only awake but actually trying to get dressed.

“You know,” Rex said, watching Obi-Wan get defeated by the buttons on his shirt, “this would be really funny if it wasn’t so sad.”

“We’re going to be late,” Obi-Wan said, and then had to sit down for another coughing fit.

“You’re not going to work.” He handed over the juice, waiting as Obi-Wan took a sip before holding out the pills. “That glare would be more impressive if I actually knew you were capable of focusing on me.”

“Are these the night ones?” Obi-Wan asked suspiciously.

“No,” Rex lied, adding when Obi-Wan hesitated, “It’s either pills or the terrible powdered cold medicine. Your choice.”

There were many things Rex found helplessly endearing about his husband, but Obi-Wan’s utter inability to be graceful in defeat was not one of them. Well, if he was being honest, it was at the very least at the bottom of the list.

Obi-Wan made a show of swallowing, but Rex, who dealt with both Fives and Echo when they were ill, often at the same time, said, “Don’t make me check under your tongue.”

Obi-Wan took another sip, scowling, but before he could let loose any scathing remarks, Rex shoved the thermometer in his mouth, smiling at the offended noise Obi-Wan made.

They waited in silence for the thermometer to beep, and Rex snatched it away. “Congratulations, you have a fever. You’re staying home.”

“I am not,” Obi-Wan said, swaying dangerously as he stood, and Rex snagged the cup to place on the nightstand. “I have open cases.”

The thing about Obi-Wan was that it wasn’t telling him not to do something that caused him to dig in his heels. No, what really pissed him off was being faced with a reasonable and rational argument against whatever task he set his mind to that he could not readily refute. And since Rex did not feel like having a three hour debate over how Obi-Wan did not have a temperature of 100.4 and could definitely work a full shift even though standing was taking all his energy, he said, “I’ll make a deal with you. I need to shower, and if by the time I'm back you’re dressed and ready to go, I’ll admit you’re right and will happily let your work yourself into an early grave.”

Obi-Wan eyed him suspiciously, but Rex learned to lie to Wolffe’s face and lived to tell the tale. “Deal,” Obi-Wan said.

Rex left him fumbling with his shirt buttons, taking his time to shave and floss, and by the time he came back to the bedroom, Obi-Wan was already back in bed, one leg hanging off the side.

“Those were the night pills,” he said, betrayed.

“They were,” said Rex, and pulled the covers over him. “I’ll let Cody and Windu know you’re taking a sick day. If you’re very good and actually sleep, I’ll get Charlie to make that tea you like. I’ll even make you some soup.”

“I want a divorce,” Obi-Wan grumbled, but Rex clicked the electric blanket on and soon Obi-Wan was asleep, breathing through his mouth and drooling on Rex’s pillow again.

He left the juice beside the bed along with more cold medicine, scribbling a note for Obi-Wan to actually take them when he woke up and how he would know if Obi-Wan didn’t.

It was no surprise that by the time he made it in to the Nine-Nine, only three minutes late, it was to see Fives updating the sick chart, Obi-Wan’s name struck through.

“And we have our first victim,” Fives said. “Who will be the next to go down?”

“Smart money is on you, Rex,” Ahsoka said. “You’re married to our patient zero.”

“You are no longer my favorite,” Rex said, which just made her scoff, secure in the knowledge that he would always like her best.

“How is he?” Cody asked, tossing a bottle of multivitamins and an orange juice to Rex.

“Denying he has ever done anything so human as catch a cold in his life,” Rex answered, shaking out a vitamin and swallowing it under Cody’s stern look, “but asleep when I left.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Cody said ominously.

“Didn’t you read the binder?” Anakin demanded. He was inching his vitamins towards the garbage, jumping guiltily when Cody pointedly cleared his throat. “He is tricky and deceitful. I bet he climbs out the window. He’s done it before.”

Given how the kid liked to exaggerate, Rex looked to Cody, who regretfully nodded. That was going to be story to pry out of Obi-Wan while he was still feverish and less adept at dodging the question.

“It’s after nine. Why aren’t you working?” Windu asked from his office doorway.

“Obi-Wan’s sick,” Anakin said, spinning in his chair. “We’re placing bets on how long it takes him to make a jailbreak and sneak into work.”

“I’d like to play,” Windu said. “I give it four hours.”

“Two and a half,” said Fives, while Ahsoka called out, “Two even.”

“Three,” said Cody.

“Have we given up any pretense of doing our jobs?” Rex said, although he was thoroughly ignored as Nu started giving out odds.

By the time eleven o’clock rolled around with no sign of Obi-Wan, Rex relaxed enough to go out with Ahsoka to follow up on yesterday’s lead, which led them to small, blonde dancer, who took one look at them and took off running. Ahsoka grinned, wild and free, and gave chase, and fifteen minutes later they deposited her neatly in the back of a squad car with a couple of uniforms to take her in for booking.

“This puts me ahead of Anakin,” said Ahsoka, fixing her hat that almost fell off mid-chase. She and the kid had an ongoing bet over who got the most arrests, and Rex had long ago forgotten what the stakes were. Something horrifying, knowing the two of them.

“Showing up the kid is as good a reason as any to work this job,” Rex said, digging out his phone when it and Ahsoka’s chimed almost in unison.

Ahsoka was faster, and said, “We need to get back.”

There was a single text from Cody: _your idiot husband passed out at his desk._

“Four hours on the dot,” said Ahsoka, checking the time. “The captain is good. Fives sent a pic.”

Against his better judgment, Rex opened it. That was indeed Obi-Wan face down at his desk, paper stuck to his cheek with what, he peered closer, suspiciously looked like plastic dinosaurs in his hair.

“I honestly don’t know what I expected,” Rex sighed, heading towards their car.

“Anakin’s binder did make it clear,” said Ahsoka. “What? You left it lying out. I was just supposed to not read it?”

For that he didn’t let her drive, and when they finally made it into the bullpen it was to see Fives and Anakin hovering over Obi-Wan trying to balance a stapler on top of the notepads they stacked on Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“Really?” he asked Cody, who was watching from his desk.

“You married him,” said Cody. “This is your problem now.”

“You both know I will punish you for this,” Rex said, and at least Anakin had the self-preservation to look guilty.

“We’re going for the record,” said Fives. “We once managed to get three shoes on him before he woke up.”

“I want next go,” said Ahoska. “Come on, Rex, you know you want to play.”

It was tempting, especially since the little shit dragged himself in with a fever, but Obi-Wan snuffled pathetically, and instead Rex carefully set aside the entire stack to Anakin and Fives’ disappointment.

“Do not push it,” he told them, picking the dinosaurs from Obi-Wan’s hair before shaking his shoulder. “Come on, asshole, wake up.”

Obi-Wan blinked, realized where he was, and jerked upright, a lone piece of paper sticking to his face. Rex brushed it away, enjoying Obi-Wan’s guilty look before it settled into familiar stubborn lines.

“I'm really looking forward to this explanation,” Rex said, crossing his arms.

“I woke up and felt better, and since there was no reason for me to stay at home I decided to do some actual police work,” said Obi-Wan with great dignity that was ruined by the way he kept sniffling.

“You were asleep at your desk,” said Rex. “And you have a fever.”

“I do not. Cody, tell him I don’t have a fever.”

“You know,” said Cody, smirking in the way that meant he was the only one enjoying the situation, “the fact that you married Rex means I no longer have to deal with your inability to keep yourself alive.”

Obi-Wan glared at him. “You made me go to the hospital once for a chest cold. That hardly counts.”

“You had walking pneumonia.”

“You had _pneumonia?_ ” Rex said, feeling a headache start.

“That was in the binder,” said Anakin. “Right after the part where you can’t leave him alone because of the wiliness.”

“You made a binder?” said Obi-Wan.

“Yeah, back when you were hooking up with Quinlan Vos. There was no way he was going to be able to take care of you. I had to do something, especially since Cody refused to marry you even after I offered a dowry.”

 _“A what,”_ Obi-Wan practically snarled, which was impressive for a man who couldn’t breathe through his nose.

“If it makes you feel better,” Cody said, “it wasn’t as insultingly low as you’re thinking.”

“Why would that make me feel better?”

“I would never lowball your worth,” Anakin said, and Rex suspected the only reason Obi-Wan wasn’t physically lunging at the kid was because he didn’t have the energy to get out of the chair.

“We’re leaving now,” Rex said, grabbing Obi-Wan’s coat and bag before dragging him in the chair towards the elevator.

“If you would kindly stop that,” Obi-Wan snapped, dragging his heels along the floor.

“You have two choices here,” Rex said, spinning the chair so Obi-Wan faced him. “If you come home with me right now and actually rest I will make sure you are not around when I get the kid to tell me all about the dowry he tried to bribe Cody with and you can pretend this was all a hallucination brought on by your fever.”

“I fail to see how this benefits me,” Obi-Wan said.

“Well, the other option is we both sit here and listen to the story with,” and he gestured to the rest of the squad, “their commentary while Fives records the entire thing and tweets it to his followers and I remind you for the rest of our lives what Anakin thinks you’re worth.”

“It was a very generous offer,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan looked around the room, gaze coming to rest on Sinube and Nu, who were grinning in a frankly frightening manner before saying, “Fine. You can take me home.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” Rex muttered, but he held out a hand to help Obi-Wan stand. “Where’s your scarf and hat?”

“They’re here somewhere,” Obi-Wan said.

Rex sighed and unwrapped his scarf, looping it around Obi-Wan’s neck before pulling the hat over his hair. “Don’t lose these,” he said. They were gifts from Steela done in his favorite shade of blue and sinfully soft. “Cody,” he added, and Cody reached out and grabbed Fives’ phone.

“Aw, come on,” Five protested. “I wasn’t actually going to tweet it.”

“And now you never will,” said Cody. “Both of you take tomorrow off. I already cleared it with the captain.”

“This is why I wanted him to marry you,” said Anakin. “He’d be a good provider.”

“I’m going to remember this,” Obi-Wan said darkly as Rex led him to the elevator. “I suspect Padmé will be very interested to hear about what happened your third week of college.”

As the elevator closed on Anakin’s pale, terrified face, Rex said, “You’re going to tell me about that, right?”

“Are you going to torment him?”

“Obviously.”

“Then of course I am.” He blinked slowly and Rex tugged until Obi-Wan sagged against him. “I was feeling better.”

“I know,” he said, arm snug around Obi-Wan’s waist. As infuriating as Obi-Wan could be, he didn’t do anything without a reason.

“Did Anakin really give you a binder?”

“It’s quite impressive. He put a lot of work into it.”

“Of course he did. He always puts extra effort into teasing me.”

“To be fair,” Rex said as the doors slid open, “he wasn’t making fun of you this time.” He thought about the section on Obi-Wan’s tea preferences. “Well, not as much as you think.”

“I want to read it,” said Obi-Wan, and Rex nodded even though there was no way in hell that was ever happening. He did not want to lose the slight advantage he had.

They took a taxi back to their apartment, Obi-Wan half asleep on his shoulder. Inside, Rex started the water boiling for tea while Obi-Wan changed.

“Tea will be done in a minute,” Rex said when Obi-Wan stumbled in wearing his old All Blacks hoodie. He handed over some more pills and a glass of water. “Take this and go sit on the couch. I’ll grab the electric blanket when I'm done in here.”

“I can do that,” Obi-Wan said, because of course he did. Rex raised an eyebrow until Obi-Wan rolled his eyes but took the medicine.

“Not part of the deal.” He nudged Obi-Wan gently. “Go on or I call Anakin and put him on speakerphone while he tells the whole embarrassing story.”

Obi-Wan scowled and went, and a few minutes later they were both nested on the couch, Obi-Wan’s head back on his shoulder.

“Which one is this?” he asked when Rex queued up a Mythbusters episode.

“The one where they blow something up.”

“Well, that certainly clears it up,” he said dryly and then proceeded to sneeze three times in quick succession.

Rex offered a box of tissues, which Obi-Wan glared at like it had personally wronged him.

“You really are the worst at being sick,” said Rex.

“You don’t get the moral high ground,” Obi-Wan said. “Cody told me what happened last year. You tried to hold him and Ahsoka off with a bowie knife.”

“In my defense, they were trying to get me to take the cherry flavored cough syrup.”

“That makes sense,” said Obi-Wan around a yawn. “Cherry is disgusting.”

“It is,” he said, and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s temple.

As the episode went on, Obi-Wan slid further down until Rex once again had to rescue the half full mug of tea before it slid from Obi-Wan’s loose grip.

“Hey,” Rex said softly as Obi-Wan blinked fuzzily at him. “Lay down. Come on. You’re falling over.”

Obi-Wan let himself be moved without any complaint, a damn miracle, until his head was in Rex’s lap. Rex brushed his thumb over the back of Obi-Wan’s neck in slow arcs until Obi-Wan sighed, eyes sliding shut.

“Just try not to drool on me,” he said, and got a weak pinch to his leg for the trouble.

One episode led to another, and Rex was content to stay where he was, Obi-Wan’s breaths occasionally interrupted by a racking cough that Rex did his best to soothe away. He still had one hand free, using that to check his email and keep updated with Ahsoka about their cases. She had gotten a full confession out of the dancer, and Rex made a mental note to pick up her coffee next time they went out.

At one point, Obi-Wan sighed and rolled over, one arm wrapped around Rex’s waist, his face pressed into Rex’s stomach. For all that Obi-Wan liked to hold himself apart and aloof in public, get him alone and the man was like a street cat starved for affection. He scratched lightly through Obi-Wan’s hair and got a happy hum for it, Obi-Wan stretching out further.

“Idiot,” Rex murmured, swiping his thumb over a flushed cheek.

His phone chimed, and Rex slid it open to Wolffe texting him their grandmother’s vegetable soup recipe along with strict instructions on how to prepare it.

 _I know how to make it,_ he sent back.

_You don’t do it right. Your broth is terrible._

_UR TERRIBLE._

There was a pause and then _Tell me you got Skywalker to give you a head of oxen for Kenobi._

_Fives tell you?_

_Cody._

Of course.

 _Two head,_ Rex sent back, _and a hope chest._

 _Nice. Let me know if you need anything_.

Obi-Wan groaned and rolled over. “Work?”

“Just Wolffe,” Rex answered. “There’s a good chance he might show up with soup.”

“Oh,” said Obi-Wan, yawning. “I could eat.”

“I’ll make something.” He nudged Obi-Wan to sit up.

Obi-Wan made an unhappy noise, and so Rex settled back into the couch, brushing Obi-Wan’s hair away from his face.

“I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with,” said Obi-Wan, surprising him. He thought Obi-Wan had fallen back to sleep. “Especially when I'm sick.”

“At least you’re admitting you’re sick.”

“When Qui-Gon brought me home,” Obi-Wan said softly, “I was so angry. I didn’t want anything to do with him.”

Obi-Wan never talked much about his childhood before being adopted by Qui-Gon, but Rex could guess most of it: bouncing from home to home, too old to be considered for adoption, aware of how unwanted he was, withdrawn and difficult with so many walls built up it just about took an act of god to get through, and who could blame him?

Rex wished he could meet that angry kid just so he could tell him he was going to be happy one day. Rex was going to spend the rest of his life making Obi-Wan happy.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I caught the flu a couple of months in,” Obi-Wan said. “I had a bad fever, couldn’t keep anything down. I definitely threw up on him a couple of times when I wasn’t yelling at him to leave.”

He rubbed his thumb over the divot behind Obi-Wan’s ear, smiling at the shiver that earned him. “And?” he prompted.

“He took off from work for a whole week. Brought home movies and books. Made me terrible soup. He was good baker but couldn’t cook. He kept burning it.” Obi-Wan paused, something soft and wistful stealing over his face. “I miss him.”

“I know.”

Obi-Wan caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “He would have liked you.”

“Don’t lie. He would have messed with me for fun.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Yes, but after that, he would have loved you.” He added, soft, “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It’s my job,” he said. “And you are nowhere as terrible as Fives and Echo are.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and as they lapsed into silence, he tucked Rex’s hand over his heart.

“Let me know what you get hungry,” Rex said quietly, loathe to break the moment.

“I'm all right,” said Obi-Wan. “Can we stay like this for a bit?”

“Sure,” said Rex. “Anything you want.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The hospital called me because I'm your emergency contact and you were_ hit by a car.”
> 
>  
> 
> _“You’re putting unnecessary emphasis on that.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt ""Obi wan is the black knight from Monty Python" holy shit you're right can we get some Obi "it's just a scratch" Kenobi in the B99 au."
> 
> I had to rewatch the Black Knight scene for this. And that is in no way a complaint because it is one of the greatest scenes ever put to film.
> 
> This also owes a lot to this [comic](http://dakt37.tumblr.com/post/124704848934/i-re-watched-landing-at-point-rain-last-night) by Dakt, which is my favorite.

“You really don’t need to stay,” Obi-Wan said, refusing to relax against the pillows despite the ache in his ribs. It wasn’t unbearable; it only hurt when he breathed too deeply.

Ahsoka kicked her feet up on the bed. “I kind of do, actually. You’re my partner.”

“You’re Rex’s partner,” he corrected.

While it was true that the squad, with the exception of Nu and Sinube, would split off in different pairings depending on the case, everyone knew Rex had claimed Ahsoka as his partner, despite Anakin’s numerous failed attempts to steal her away.

“And what do you think he’d do when he found out I left you in the hospital?” She prodded his relatively non-bruised leg with the toe of her boot. It was unfortunate that the mere thought of leaning forward to shove her backwards made every muscle seize with pain. It would have been immensely satisfying.

“If we were lucky,” said Wolffe from where he was reclining on the other side of the bed, “he would only remind us of abandoning you for eight years instead of an even ten.”

“Why are you even here?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We’re family,” Wolffe said, and Obi-Wan honestly couldn’t tell if Wolffe was faking the hurt in his voice or not.

Despite years of friendship with Cody, who turned stoic derision into an art form, and his marriage to Rex, who could project more judgment with a raised brow than most people could with their entire face, Obi-Wan still couldn’t get a read a clear read on Wolffe, who was perpetually annoyed with the world when he wasn’t projecting an air of quiet amusement. Although in this case Obi-Wan had to concede that his head wound certainly wasn’t helping matters.

“And not to pull rank,” said Wolffe, obviously about to pull rank, “but this happened in my precinct on my case, and as senior officer at the scene your well being is my responsibility.”

It was a joint effort between the Nine-Nine and the One-Three dealing with a series of assaults and robberies with too many similarities to be separate cases. He and Ahsoka were dispatched to the One-Three to pool resources. Unsurprisingly, like anyone with even a few Waititi rungs in their DNA, Wolffe took an instant liking to Ahsoka. Obi-Wan had the sneaking suspicion if it weren’t the fact that Rex would definitely kill him, Wolffe would have already lured her away.

“I’m perfectly healthy, thank you,” Obi-Wan said.

 

“It’s the head wound that really sells that line,” said Ahsoka, and poked him again. She was spending too much time with Anakin or Rex, but either way it needed to stop.

“And I’ve been given the Binder,” Wolffe said, the capital level falling heavily into place. “I’ve seen you eyeing the window.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan muttered darkly. Ever since he caught that cold, the Binder had become a thing of legend. It was too much to hope he had hallucinated Rex handing it off to his cousins for perusal. “I only climbed out the window once and it was in desperate circumstances.”

“Let me guess,” Ahsoka said dryly, “were they trying to make you rest?”

“I’ve decided I don’t like your new attitude.”

“Don’t lie. You love it,” she said with the complete confidence of someone who knew she was forever Rex’s favorite and that Rex, indeed, loved it. Apparently, by dint of being married to him, Obi-Wan was expected to find it charming as well.

“This may come as a surprise,” he said, “but I actually do not.”

“Uh-huh,” said Wolffe, sounding disturbingly similar to Rex. “The fact remains Detective Tano and I will be staying with you until the doctors clear you. You’re like the sad stray dog we found who will die without our intervention.”

“You even have those sad dog eyes,” Ahsoka added, grinning as Wolffe nodded in agreement, and it almost made Obi-Wan wish he had a concussion so he wouldn’t have to suffer through their budding friendship. “Hey, what are those dogs? You know, the one with the big jowls from Lady and the Tramp?”

“Bloodhounds,” said Wolffe.

Ahsoka snapped her fingers. “Yes! Tell me he doesn’t look like one.”

“I don’t look like one,” Obi-Wan said flatly, although god knew why he even bothered.

“No, she has a point. It’s your tragic eyes,” said Wolffe, knocking himself lower on Obi-Wan’s list of favorite Waititis.

Rex was at the top by default for being his husband and also in possession some of the most truly awe inspiring muscles he ever had the good fortune to see. Cody was a close second due to their long friendship and Cody’s not inconsiderable Anakin wrangling powers. Boil and Waxer, who always came as a pair, were tied with Kix for the third spot, and Fives and Echo took up spots five and four respectively. Wolffe, Obi-Wan decided, fell to the bottom just above Boost but under Sinker.

“That,” said Ahsoka, “and you and the dog were both hit by a car.”

“You were hit by a car,” Rex said from the doorway. Considering Obi-Wan had personally witnessed Rex knocking his head into any number of doorways, he really had no business moving as quickly and quietly as he did.

Ribs preventing him from taking a bracing breath, Obi-Wan put on his most charming smile and said quietly to Wolffe, “You called him?”

Obviously it wasn’t quiet enough because Rex’s frown deepened. “The hospital called me because I'm your emergency contact and _you were hit by a car._ ”

“You’re putting unnecessary emphasis on that,” he said, choosing to ignore the pointed look Rex was giving the butterfly bandage at his temple. “And I wasn’t hit by a car. I would categorize it more of a nudge.”

It was honestly insulting how quickly Rex turned to Wolffe and Ahsoka for confirmation.

“He got knocked down,” Ahsoka said, giving Obi-Wan an apologetic look. “But he wasn’t, like, flung or anything.”

“The car wasn’t moving very fast,” Wolffe added, bumping himself up a list slot, “but it was a solid hit,” and immediately dropped down two. “He was disoriented and there is a concern he might have a concussion or internal injuries.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he said quickly because the corners of Rex’s mouth were tightening, which usually meant Rex was going to trap him in a blanket and force feed him soup until Rex felt he was sufficiently healthy again. His caseload was far too heavy for him to indulge Rex’s sweet but misguided overprotective instincts. “I know what a concussion feels like.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rex said with feeling. “And the internal injuries? Do you know what that feels like?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. No one really knows what’s happing internally.”

“So that would be a yes.”

“Surprisingly,” Wolffe cut in before he and Rex could do more than glare at each other, “he avoided that. He does have a couple of cracked ribs—”

“Two floating ribs,” Obi-Wan corrected, “and those hardly count.”

“—a minor head wound—”

“That’s an exaggeration. I didn’t need stitches and it barely bled at all.”

“—multiple contusions along his left side—”

“That’s just an overly dramatic way of saying bruises. I’ll ice it later.”

“—and a sprained ankle.”

“Twisted, if even that. I can put my full weight on it.”

“Oh my god,” Ahsoka said into the ensuing silence. “I thought Anakin was just being Anakin, but if anything he was downplaying how terrible you are. You’re like the Black Knight from Monty Python’s Holy Grail. You are one second away from saying this is but a scratch.”

“A scratch?” said Wolffe with a small upturn at the corner of his mouth. “His arm’s off.”

“He’s had worse,” Ahoska replied, grinning.

“You’re not funny,” said Obi-Wan.

Wolffe gave him a long look. “You were literally arguing you only suffered minor flesh wounds.”

“Why are you still here?” he snapped.

“He’s family,” Rex said sharply, and Obi-Wan swallowed the shame that rose in his throat.

It took years of Qui-Gon’s steady presence to convince Obi-Wan that he wasn’t going to be sent away. And then after his death, it took a shouting match with Shmi for Obi-Wan to realize he was still part of their family, that Qui-Gon wasn’t the only thing linking them together.

Family, in his experience, was something that had to be searched and fought for, and despite Cody’s fixture in his life, he still had trouble accepting how easily the Waititis accepted him into their fold. There was a part of him that would always be that angry, scared kid shuttled from home to home, unable to believe how well loved he had become.

“Of course,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Wolffe.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Wolffe, and Obi-Wan at least knew him well enough to take that literally. “You did good work today, especially you, Detective Tano. If you ever want to work at an actual police precinct with real cases, let me know. I’ll fast track your transfer.”

“You’re not stealing her,” Rex practically growled.

“Hey, it’s not his fault,” Ahsoka said, swinging her feet off the bed. “I'm awesome.”

“Uh-huh,” said Rex. “Go get a coffee or something, if you’re so awesome. I need a moment with my husband.”

Obi-Wan winced. It was never a good sign when Rex directly referred to their marital status, especially when they were on the job.

“Good luck,” Ahsoka stage whispered with a ginger pat to his shoulder.

“Go easy on him,” Wolffe said. “He was doing the job. It was just pure luck he got hit instead of us.”

Rex didn’t answer, just waiting silently as Wolffe and Ahsoka left, Wolffe pulling the door shut behind them. The silence sat thick and heavy over him, and while Obi-Wan let awkward moments stretch out in an interview, it was different with Rex standing before him, jaw clenched and glaring at a spot over his head.

“You’re accent gets thicker when you’re angry,” he said. “And when you’re tired. I’ve always liked that.”

“Don’t,” Rex said. “For once don’t do the thing where you deflect and turn everything I say back on me.”

“All right,” he said, noting the tension strung tight along Rex’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Rex snorted and sat in Ahsoka’s abandoned chair. “I got a call there was an accident and you’re in the hospital. I'm fucking great, Obi-Wan.”

Biting back a groan, he carefully stretched to grab hold of Rex’s wrist. “I'm sorry I scared you. I know you don’t like hospitals.”

The entire family had practically lived in one in the months following Echo’s accident. Rex didn’t talk about it, Fives even less, but Cody let slip the schedule that was drafted, the shifts everyone took so that Echo wasn’t left alone.

“No one likes hospitals,” Rex said, taking Obi-Wan’s hand in his own and squeezing. “And don’t think I don’t see you wincing in pain over there. You sure you want to stay in that stress position?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Obi-Wan snapped, settling back and sighing as the ache eased. “I was trying to be a loving husband.”

“I appreciate the effort.” Rex glanced at the closed door before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re really fine?”

“Some painkillers wouldn’t be amiss,” he admitted, “but I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not as comforting as you seem to think it is.”

“It should be. I barely lost any blood this time.”

“I cannot believe I married you,” Rex said, touching fingers to Obi-Wan’s chin.

Obi-Wan obligingly tilted his head towards the light, letting Rex get a better look at his temple. Head wounds always looked worse than they were, and this one left him with his half his face covered in blood as he tried to climb to his feet despite Ahsoka urging him to lie still.

“Don’t lie,” he said. “Anakin’s dowry offer was too good for you to turn down.”

“I thought you were pretending that never happened.”

“I’ve decided to embrace it,” Obi-Wan said, growing impatient as he snagged Rex’s leather jacket to bring him closer. “It opens up more mocking opportunities about his love of Regency romances.” He tugged, but Rex remained stubbornly still. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

Rex smirked. “You need to rest. You were hit by a car.”

“Nudged.” When Rex actually moved back, Obi-Wan amended, “Violently nudged. Is that better?”

“For you, yes.” Rex leaned it, and said, “It scared me, when I got the call.”

Obi-Wan pulled him in close and said, “I'm not going to leave you, Rex, not without a fight.”

“I know,” said Rex, and finally kissed him.

Obi-Wan sighed into it. Having Rex touching him was a balm after hours of strange hands prodding and poking, and Obi-Wan slid a hand under Rex’s shirt, dragging his nails along Rex’s skin.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Rex said.

“Oh, Rex,” he said, “I always finish what I start.”

Rex inhaled, and Obi-Wan barely had time to smile in triumph before he was pressed back into the pillows, Rex’s gentle touch to his jaw at odds with the way his mouth was hot and demanding, and Obi-Wan dug his nails in as Rex took and took.

“And that’s the winner,” said Ahsoka.

They broke apart, although Obi-Wan made no movement to slide his hand out from under Rex’s shirt.

“Did you just take a picture?” he asked, while Rex swore quietly in his ear.

“Yup,” Ahsoka said cheerfully. “I even got you trying to grope Rex’s boob.”

“Did you send it to Anakin?” He reluctantly let Rex draw back.

“You just know he’s trying to claw his face off,” she said.

Wolffe just gave Rex, who was flushed and dark eyed, a disappointed look. Obi-Wan fought down a smug grin.

“The doctor should be by soon,” Wolffe said. “It looks like they’re not keeping you overnight. They’ll release you in the next couple of hours.”

Obi-Wan glanced at the clock. “That leaves plenty of time for Ahsoka and I—”

Rex cleared his throat.

“For Ahsoka to work with Wolffe on the case while I go home and rest,” he said with relatively poor grace.

“You’re learning,” Wolffe said. “Well done.”

Obi-Wan made a rude gesture, which only earned him an approving nod, and Obi-Wan gave up on ever understanding that branch of the Waititi clan.

“Just for that,” Rex said, brushing a bit of his hair from his forehead, “we’ll get dinner from that Indian place you like.”

“I just want it to be known that I'm perfectly capable of going back to work and doing desk duty.”

“Of course you are,” Rex agreed, and patted his shoulder before moving to sit back in the chair.

“You really are the Black Knight,” Ahsoka said with a roll of her eyes. “I'm surprised you didn’t actually start kicking the car.”

“What was he going to do,” said Rex, “bleed on it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan said. “The car and I called it a draw.”

He leaned back against the pillows, eyes closed and Rex’s hands in his, letting Ahsoka’s delighted laugh wash over him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Obi-Wan just managed to ease back the covers and inch towards the edge of the bed when Rex, accent even thicker with sleep, rolled over and said, “No.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon over on tumblr who asked about what they have for breakfast/their morning routine, which is my jam. I could write a million words of domestic fic.

Obi-Wan just managed to ease back the covers and inch towards the edge of the bed when Rex, accent even thicker with sleep, rolled over and said, “No.”

Blast. For someone who could and did doze off on his feet more than once, Rex could be a remarkable light sleeper at the most inconvenient times.

“Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Liar.” Rex yawned. “I saw you bring those files home.”

“I'm going to make breakfast.”

“You don’t eat breakfast,” said Rex, which wasn’t entirely true. Most weekdays, when they didn’t stop in to see Charlie, they had a cup of tea and coffee respectively and shared a bite of whatever Obi-Wan had baked the previous day before leaving for the Nine-Nine. “You’ve been putting in a lot of overtime. You need sleep.”

“I sleep,” Obi-Wan protested because the times he would wake midway through the night were growing few and far between. Although, yes, fine, he could privately admit he perhaps had a tendency to forgo rest when working on a particularly thorny case.

“Not enough.” Rex wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s middle and pulled him back against his chest, tucking his nose behind Obi-Wan’s ear.

“That’s cheating,” Obi-Wan said. Rex put out heat like a small star, and already he was relaxing into it.

Rex patted his stomach. “Make a deal with you. We got an hour until the alarm goes off. You sleep till then and I won’t make you stay for the snooze buttons. You just got off a double. Another hour will do you good.”

While Obi-Wan had an accurate internal clock that never let him oversleep, Rex set up an elaborate system consisting of the first alarm followed by exactly two consecutive presses of the snooze button, which was then followed by a second alarm scheduled to go off five minutes after the last snooze before he would finally drag himself upright to face the day.

“You can just admit you miss me,” Obi-Wan said, giving in.

“I miss you,” Rex admitted in that easy way Obi-Wan envied, and pressed a kiss to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck before immediately falling back asleep.

That was a skill Obi-Wan wished he possessed. Even before Bane he always had trouble convincing his body to relax enough for him to drop off.

“It’s your brain,” Qui-Gon had said, pouring the contents of the pan into a mug while Obi-Wan sat, frustrated, at the kitchen table. “It just doesn’t want to turn off. Here, drink this.”

“I can turn it off,” Obi-Wan would mutter, although of course he couldn’t. “And stop giving me warm milk. I think it might be killing me.”

“Well,” said Qui-Gon, amused, “they call death the big sleep for a reason. Drink up.”

But here, lulled by the comfortable warmth of Rex at his back, it was easy enough to quiet his thoughts and slide into a light doze until the alarm went off. It was kept on his side of the bed because Rex had the tendency to turn it off or knock it to the floor. Obi-Wan pressed the first of the snoozes as Rex groaned and tightened his hold around Obi-Wan’s waist.

“We made a deal,” Obi-Wan reminded him.

“I was lying.”

Obi-Wan rolled over. “Arguing with me means you’re going to lose about five minutes of sleep.”

Rex managed to glare without opening his eyes even as he reluctantly let Obi-Wan slide out from under his arm. He turned his face into the pillow and pulled the comforter tight around himself much like a child trying to ward off the coming school day. Fondness bloomed in his chest, and even now, months into their marriage, Obi-Wan was still surprised by just how much he adored Rex.

“You have twenty-one minutes before you have to get up.”

“Fuck off,” Rex groaned, and Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to his cheek before rolling out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

He always tried to get to the shower first because even though he had more hair Rex had the tendency to let the water mask the fact he was dozing off again. The first morning he stayed over, when it became clear he was going to be the one in charge of getting them out the door on time, he marveled that Rex arrived at work exactly five minutes early ever day.

“Wolffe,” Rex had said darkly when Obi-Wan asked how he managed it, and refused to elaborate.

When asked, Wolffe, as was his wont, had merely smiled in a deeply unnerving manner and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

“And you willingly married into that,” Anakin said. “Have you seen him do the eye thing?”

“It’s actually quite amusing,” Obi-Wan said.

“They got to you.” Anakin’s eyes were wide and tragic looking as he dramatically clutched Obi-Wan to his chest. “Obi-Wan, it’s not too late. Come back to us.”

“Can you please just act like a normal person once if your life?” Obi-Wan said, attempting to drive an elbow into Anakin’s stomach.

“Says the man who sends his snitches special tea blends.”

“It’s called being polite,” Obi-Wan said, pinching Anakin’s arm.

It had quickly devolved into a wrestling match complete with viciously personal insults, and at one point he swore he heard Boil, with a frankly insulting amount of judgment in his voice, say to Rex, “And that’s your in-law now.”

By the time he finished trimming his beard, the fourth and final alarm went off, which was followed by irritated swearing and the sound of it hitting the floor. A minute later Rex stumbled in, looking deeply wronged by the world in general.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan said, barely on the right side of cheerfully obnoxious. “How was your extra twenty-three minutes of sleep?”

“Don’t start,” Rex said. “Did you leave me hot water?”

“I always do.” At Rex’s raised brow, he added, “Well, I almost always do.”

Rexyawned, absently patting Obi-Wan’s hip on the way to the shower.

“Try not to fall back asleep in there,” Obi-Wan said, watching the play of Rex’s back muscles as he stripped off his shirt.

“You keep staring like that and we’ll be late for work,” said Rex, kicking off his boxers.

Probably not that late, Obi-Wan thought, but as he hadn’t budgeted extra time into the morning he left Rex to his shower to go get dressed. Rex had cleaned out the closet before Obi-Wan moved in, making room for all the sweaters he collected over the years. It was a habit he blamed on Qui-Gon, who in his memories was always wearing something hand knit in garish colors. Poor Shmi was forever trying to swap out the old cardigans unraveling at the seams with new sweaters she found at thrift stores. Neither he nor Qui-Gon ever let her get away with it.

Summer was finally giving way to autumn, and Obi-Wan unearthed his light weight blue sweater that was Rex’s favorite after the one with the elbow patches. The fact Obi-Wan knew about Rex’s ranking list and was not above taking advantage of it on occasion probably meant they were, in Anakin’s own words, that gross married couple. He would never admit it, but he found that description oddly sweet.

The shower was still running as he made his way to the kitchen where both the coffee maker and electric kettle had automatically clicked on. As his tea was steeping, he poured a cup of coffee for Rex, adding creamer and a little bit of sugar.

“Do not believe his lies about how he hates sugar in his coffee,” Charlie had said to him between the various drinks she was making, calling them out in a loud voice before turning her attention to the large order for the Nine-Nine. She was, Obi-Wan noted, only half-cafing Anakin, which meant Anakin was finally making some headway.

“I’ve never seen him add any,” Obi-Wan said, watching as she ripped open a packet and added it to the espresso shots she poured into a shaker of ice.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Rex has this, like, hilariously ridiculous mental image of himself he wants to live up to. It’s why he wears a leather jacket all year round.” She capped the shaker and proceeded to, well, shake it for several seconds before pouring the entire concoction into a cup and adding a bit of milk on top. “I'm just saying, put some sugar in. He’ll think you’re some kind of coffee savant and love you for it.”

Obi-Wan picked up the two trays of drinks and said, “I thought you said love was weakness and gross.”

“It is,” she said with a sharp smile. “But he likes you. So you need to know how he actually takes his coffee and not just how he says he does. You got everything? Good, get out. The afternoon shift is coming in and I have to go yell at them about their fucking closes again.”

His tea done, Obi-Wan added a bit of milk, and then carried both cups to the bathroom where Rex, towel wrapped around his waist, was shaving.

“So you didn’t fall asleep in there,” Obi-Wan said.

“That literally happened once,” Rex said, running the razor under the water before tilting his head back to get to the underside of his jaw.

“Three times,” Obi-Wan corrected, holding out the mug. “Here.”

Rex wiped away the stray bits of foam before taking the cup. He made an appreciative noise at the first sip. “How do you get it so good? You don’t even drink coffee.”

“Trade secret.” He pressed a kiss to Rex’s shoulder, running a hand down the length of his spine. “You have lovely back muscles.”

The first time he said that, Rex had given him a faintly bemused look, as if he wasn’t sure Obi-Wan was teasing him or not. Now, Rex said, fond and amused, “Thanks. Yours aren’t so bad either.”

As Rex headed back to the bedroom, Obi-Wan said, “Charlie’s interview is this afternoon. We’re taking her out for drinks after.”

“I remember,” Rex called, voice muffled. “I'm going to miss her coffee.”

“She hasn’t got the job yet.” He went to the living room and gathered up his files, tucking everything away into his bag. Rex’s keys, wallet, and bag were set neatly beside the front door from where he packed it last night.

“She will,” said Rex from where he was leaning against the bedroom doorframe. He finished buttoning his dress shirt, which meant they needed to run at least one load of laundry that night; Rex hated going more than a day without a clean Henley to wear. “Don’t forget, we have Numa this weekend.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t forgotten. He got a list of her favorite foods from Waxer and made Cody go shopping with him to find dinosaur sheets, and thus suffered through an afternoon of Cody laughing at him solely through the medium of expressive eyebrows.

“We’ll need to stop by the store on the way home today,” Obi-Wan said. “We don’t have any chicken nuggets.” He frowned. “Have you seen my phone?”

Rex tossed it to him. “You left it by the bed again. Are we running late?”

“We have a few minutes before we need to leave,” he said, and then found himself backed up against the wall, Rex’s hand sliding up into his hair.

“Hey,” Rex said, leaning in close so that his lips just barely brushed against Obi-Wan’s.

“Hello,” he murmured, hands on Rex’s hips as he settled in. “Can I help you with something?”

Rex kissed him sweetly like Obi-Wan knew he would. “How much time do we have?” Rex asked, thumb brushing over the rim of his ear.

“Five minutes,” said Obi-Wan, and pulled him back in.

It was slow and deep, the way Obi-Wan liked it best, the two of them pressed tight together. It had been the same that first morning together, when Rex kissed him by the front door and asked, “You want to get dinner tonight?”

Obi-Wan hadn’t been expecting Rex when he returned to the Nine-Nine, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about finding him anyway.

“We’re going to be late,” he said, and then kissed Rex one last time, letting it linger softly for another moment before gently nudging Rex back.

Rex gathered up his wallet and keys, passing Obi-Wan his bag. “Where’s your helmet?”

“Closet, same place as yours. Are we taking the bike?”

“Of course,” said Rex, finding the helmets where Obi-Wan had neatly hung them last night. “You love my bike.”

“I don’t hate it.” He glanced at the clock. “If we leave now, we can meet Anakin in the garage and get him to make the face.”

Rex held the door for him. “I do like being the reason for the disgusted frog face.”

“I know you do,” said Obi-Wan, and with Rex right behind him, stepped out to start the day.


End file.
